The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-08-31
LOST.
Only an Emigrant Who Had Wander
ed from Camp-A Thrilling Story of
the Great American Prairie.
" Q,sad IN tIle Detroit Frce ~.

Only an Emigrant Who Had Wander
ed from Canp-A Thrilling Story of
the Great American Prairie.
NJ Quad an the Detroit Free Press.
While yet two miles away we saw the vul
lures lowering over the spot, flying low and
in narrow circles-anxious to begin their
feast, but evidently frightened at our APP
proach.
"a dead body-buffalo, deer or perhaps a
horse, " said the hunter guide as each man
mvoluntarily drew rein.
The crew of a ship that sails the bound
less ocean catch eagerly at floating spar or
wreckage. On the great plains of tho West
one catches as eagerly at sight OF a wounded
horse dragging himself along-at tue trail
left by wagon--at the gathering of the
vultureS. In each incident is a mystery
something to increase the awe which CON
stantly burdens him-something to further
increase the anxiety which he can never
shake off
Start at the line of Dakota and the Do
minion of Canada and you can find a
stretch of plain extending south to the
southern limits of New Mexieo-one thou
sand miles.
A thousand miles of broken ground, in
terspersed with mountain ranges-cut
through by rivers-relieved once in a while
by spot of prairie which God seems to
have planted there to prevent the horrible
monotony from driving men crazy.
Ride over the prairies and the odor of one
hundred different flowers fill your nostrils.
The fat hare leave their forms begruding-
ly. The bee and the humming-bird fly
with you There is a carpet of rich, sweet,
grass which deadens the sound of every
hoof-beat. The influence is peaceful
Ride over the plains and the sight of the
sage-brush and mongrel cacti irritate and
annoy The rattlesnake crawls leisurely
out of your path or coils himself in a
vicious way and holds the road. Every hoof-
beat sends out an echo. In its mighty
wrath nature upheaved the earth into swells
and ridges. You are ever shut in; you are
looking for the beyond. Each ridge is the
same-there is still another beyond it. You
may look for blossom Or flower, or gentle
vine-but the plains are accused.
And as we come nearer, the vultures cry
out in their harsh voices and rise higher,
and the feeling of mystery deepenS Not a
word is spoken in the band. Each horse
prickS up his ears and seems TO feel the eX-
element. A buffalo. wounded to death by
bullet or arrow, may havA dragged itself
into this deserted land to die. Some horse,
abandoned by soldier or emigrant, may have
wandered about in his loneliness until he
ICuNAlCNl OhIo DluSC vi NSolIC2ll' W oiAetil
soon know.
All here it is Lying on the broad Of his
back on the sterile earth is the corpse of a
man. He has been dead for a day One
hand rests beside him. the other clutches a
rifle. His hat lies few feet away and the
light breeze toys with his black hair In
the centre of the forehead is a great black
spot, looking all the blacker for the pallor
of his face, and in the centre of this spot is
bullet-hole. We sit on our horses in a
circle about the body for long minute, and
then the guide drops to the ground for a
closer examination.
"Shot himselfn' he whispers after a few
seconds. at is some emigrant who wan
dered from the camp and got lCstm
Then every thing rose before each man as
vision A dozen white-topped wagons
creeping across this horrible country to-
ward pass in the Rockies. The men and
women and children must have been APP
palled at the ruggednesS and sterility-atth the
lonelineSs-at the awe which they could not
shake off. Who can tell why this man sep
arated himself from his friends! He may
have gone a little way in hopes of finding
game-gone ahead to look for water-be-
came half -crazed over the horrible monotony
and wandered away. Once he was hidden
from the wagons by the earthly pillows he
was doomed He looked about him in a
startled way as he realized that he was all
alone, and he could hear his own heart
BEATS
He had come over that swell Mower
that No again-the sun was at his back
as he left the wagons and he had walked
as straight as an arrow. He had but 10
climb the earthen billow to see them again.
Ave! his limbs tremble as he starts off
and there is culver to his lip which he can
not repress. He isright, but -! He breaks
into run up the slope-he reaches the crest
and looks around him.
No wagons
Perhaps he can see them from the next!
He must have come further than he thought
for With the pallor of fear showing
through the sunbrown on his face he runs
swiftly to the crest of the next slope.
No wagonsl
my God! / am lost'
Aye. lost-doomed Fear has sent him in
the wrong direction. His friends are not
two miles away, but they might as well he
a hundred. The lost never sit down to re-
feet or to seek to pick up their own trail.
They rush from spot to spot or walk in cir
cles-hope filing their hearts at one moment
blank despair the next.
Lost on the plains. The sailor floating on
a spar in mid-Atlantic may hope for rescue;
this man can not hope. The sailor has the
ships sail to and fro from every compass
point. The emigrant has the sight of rock
and bush and creeping reptiles. High above
HIM are the vultures Human beings wan
der here only when lost like himself
And he goes on and on, sometimes run
ming in wild alright sometimes falling to
earth in his weariness How many days:
God alone counted them. How many
nights! God alone knows that. And such
days Hope, despair, desperation. Hun
gerlng, thirsting, hoping, despairing-na-
ture was pitiful when it brought the night.
And such nights! The darkness increased
its terror. Each sound startled him into
new terror. The hours seemed ages. Ma
ture was pitiful when it brought another
day.
And so it came to this: Tortured, har-
assed and suffering-giving up his last hope
of rescue-knowing that the end must come,
he shortened his hours and found peace in
death. 1t were better thus.